


Impossible Saviours

by Thinker90



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Weathertop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 10:28:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18715198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thinker90/pseuds/Thinker90
Summary: Music like such had not been heard since the Valar had walked upon Middle-Earth. High and bright and formidable and with such threat to any and all creatures of darkness.





	Impossible Saviours

Aragorn was in the fight of his life. The Nazgul had caught up to the group upon Weathertop. In between trying to prevent the halfling from getting killed and his ownself from being skewered he could not plan just how they were all going to get out of this alive. So he'd set one of them on fire, it didn't make a difference to these fell creatures. Twisting around he slashed his weapon in a wide circle, clearing some room. Suddenly a note pierced his hearing. Music like such had not been heard since the Valar had walked upon Middle-Earth. High and bright and formidable and with such threat to any and all creatures of darkness. The Ring Wraiths could not stand it. They shrieked and dropped their weapons clutching at their hooded heads. The attack came without warning, flaming arrows striking the foe with an accuracy only the Elves possesed. Aragorn whipped around to see behind him, where the arrows had come. On the edge stood two elves who even in the gloom of the night Aragorn could see were as alike as twins could be and wearing the visage of an Elf the Man had known all his life.

"My Lord Elrond?" Aragorn gasped. It was impossible. Elrond's twin was Aragorn's many times grandfather, and Elros had been dead for centuries. He could not understand it. "Ware!" One of them shouted, just in time to be bowled over by a Nazgul who rushed the Elves. To know avail. The one on the right. Opened his mouth and sang, again the music was ethereal the words unknown to the Ranger and it seemed to do as much damage to the wraiths as it earlier had. With a wail, they all fled from Weathertop, the only evidence they were there, the hellish screams of the ghouls fading into the distance. The elves approached and their unsettling similarities to Elrond became noticeable. As well as their differences. For one, Elrond would never have worn such worn and rough clothing, the two elves were clad in hide. And for another as they drew to a stop in front of Aragorn, he could see they were slightly older than his lord. It was hard to see for all elves seemed ageless, but to one who had grown up around them he could see the extra decades in the very fine lines on their face.

"Strider! Are they gone?" Came the question from young Master Baggins. All of a sudden a great weariness descended upon Isildur's Heir and it took all his strength to keep standing. Letting loose a great sigh the Ranger sought to assure the small group of Hobbits. "They are gone. For now. I do not doubt they will seek to accost us again. The ring will attract many of the Dark Lord's creatures. We will have to be more vigilant." One of the Elves snorted. Aragorn looked at him. "Morgoth's spawn is ever watchful. And getting stronger by the day. Simple vigilance is not enough. There is strength in numbers. My name is Elured, and the musical one behind me is Elurin. We shall be your guides and guards. No doubt you go to Imladris. Unfortunately the way is less safe than before even for small groups to pass through this place." Aragorn was rocked back onto his heels. Those names were impossible.

"Elured and Elurin!" He gasped. "By the Valar it cannot be, you are assumed dead in the aftermath of..." perhaps it would be wise not to say anymore. But for what ever hesitance Aragorn had, Elurin did not. "After those accursed Feanorians left us to die in the woods? As you can see, it did not happen." Elurin looked at the group of huddled hobbits. "Come let us rest, we can speak more tomorrow, let these gentle creatures rest. And not only them, my many many times grand nephew."

Aragorn had no choice but to listen, they were closer in blood to their Maia grandmother than Elrond and her power still was in them, and the power of command strong. Not that it was a command as such. Melian was never into dominance as Sauron and the other Maiar who fled to the dark were. But it was there and Aragorn's longing for his bedroll had him agreeing.

Later as he drowsed in his bedroll and the twins sung in harmony to guard their camp and their dreams, Aragorn would say a short prayer to the Valar, for their aid and their mercy.

**Author's Note:**

> I like the idea they survived.


End file.
